Words of the Heart
by ClarityAnnDale
Summary: After yet another fight with Malfoy, Harry wonders how badly he's messed up. After all, there are things that words can't say.
1. Chapter 1

Words of the Heart

Chapter 1 - The Snow Is Cold

**Hello readers. This is my third story and first chapter-fic. Hope you enjoy!**

**Disclaimer: I do not own the Harry Potter crew. J.K Rowling does. And as you can tell, I am not her.**

**Go on, read.**

'You are pathetic.'

Those three words left his lips before he could stop it. Malfoy's lips curved in a cruel semblance of a smile, grey eyes cold and sharp. He tipped his head back and laughed, a cold, mocking sound ringing through the air.

Harry watched him, frozen in his place.

Malfoy stopped laughing. Harry's blood ran cold.

'Yes, Potter. Congratulations. Not everyone can be the perfect hero, the bold, brave lion, can they?'

Harry's heart twisted painfully.

After the war, the animosity between them had somewhat toned down, but there still hadn't been much difference. There was just more to insult the other about.

'I-I didn't, I-'

'Don't even think about finishing that, Potter.' snarled Malfoy, eyes flashing dangerously and wand pointing at his chest.

Harry froze once again.

The wand dropped to Malfoy's side and he turned swiftly and stalked away, robes billowing. Harry watched him walk back toward the castle, head held high and snow swirling around him. He didn't know how long he spent just staring at the footprints he left behind.

He didn't even know what he was waiting for. For Malfoy to turn around? For a miracle to happen? He didn't know.

After what seemed like eternity, Hermione and Ron found him kneeling in the snow, snowflakes in his hair and lips blue. Just staring at the ground with glazed green eyes.

'Harry.' Hermione shook his shoulders.

He didn't respond.

'Harry.' Hermione said louder.

He remained still before he crumpled to the ground.

'Harry!'

_**~ Time Skip ~**_

Harry blinked and sat up. He realised he was in the Infirmary, with a concerned Ron and Hermione watching him.

'What h-happened?' he croaked, voice scratchy and dry.

His best friends exchanged a worried glance.

'Well,' Ron began, rubbing the back of his neck, 'We kind of found you passed out in the snow, mate.'

Harry blinked again and racked his brain for memories.

Malfoy.

His wand pointed at him with such vehement hatred.

Him leaving without looking back.

He slumped back into the pillows, avoiding his friends' searching eyes.

'What happened, Harry?' Hermione asked softly.

'N-nothing.'

'Really, I know something's up.'

'Nothing.'

'We're your best friends…'

'I know.' he answered tiredly.

'Just tell us!' she snapped, patience lost.

'I don't have to tell you ANYTHING!' he shouted back.

Hermione and Ron drew back, alarmed.

'I'm sorry, Harry.'

He looked away.

'We really are, mate.'

'I know, just give me some time to think.' He waved them away.

They left, albeit reluctantly, but they knew that he was right.

Harry sighed and ran a hand through his hair out of habit. Why was he so touchy about Malfoy and the whole fiasco? They had been enemies since first year. They- Madam Pomfrey bustled in, waving her wand in complex patterns at him.

'My dear, you're awake. Take this. What _have _you been _doing _out in the snow for such a long time? Miss Granger told me you were half frozen to death!' she admonished, pushing a vial of murky green liquid into his hand.

Harry grimaced and downed it without a second thought. _Still as vile tasting as ever. Good to know some things don__'__t change._

'I had a little… disagreement.'

Madam Pomfrey clicked her tongue and looked at him sympathetically. 'It seems so. These little disagreements always end you up in the Infirmary, don't they? If I didn't know better, I'd think you were trying to move in here.'

Harry tried for a weak smile.

'Maybe you should talk to Professor McGonagall.'

Harry only shook his head.

Madam Pomfrey gave Harry another smile and left the room. He sank back into the comfort of the soft pillows. He didn't know what was going on. He couldn't wrap his head around it all. What was this with him and Malfoy? Not animosity…well, not anymore.

He didn't know. He gave up on trying to find out. And with that, he fell into a restless slumber, head swimming with thoughts of snow, the freezing cold and the ever disgusting taste of potion on his tongue.

_**~ Time Skip ~**_

After an unsettling nap that did no good to his fuzzy brain, Harry was discharged from the Infirmary. He stumbled through the corridors into the Great Hall, falling onto the bench beside Ron.

'Mate, you're back!' Ron clapped him on the back.

Harry coughed. 'Yeah-h. I'm okay.'

'Are you sure, Harry?' Hermione peered at him over the rim of her cup.

'Yeah, why wouldn't I be?'

She gave a grimace, and tilted her head towards the door.

Draco Malfoy had just walked in.

Harry felt the sudden urge to run and bolted out the door, running to wherever his legs would take him, ignoring the frantic calls of his name. Finally, he collapsed at the top of the Astronomy Tower by the balcony. Wheezing, he took time to regain his breath and collect his thoughts. Why had he just run away? He was supposed to be a Gryffindor.

Bah. These mind-reeling thoughts.

The sound of footsteps behind him made Harry come back to reality.

'I'm sorry.'

Harry had not expected that voice. Nor those words either.

'What do you mean, you're sorry?' he asked bitterly, back still facing Malfoy.

'You know what I mean Potter. I don't apologise often.'

Harry whirled around angrily. 'Then why bother? You've always hated my guts anyways!'

'That's your fault for not accepting my hand!'

'Well, if you hadn't been such a git, I might've been in your house too!

'I wasn't being a git!'

'Yes you were,' Harry said furiously, 'You were being an absolutely pompous prick!'

'I was not! I was being perfectly civil!

'Civil my arse! The first thing you did was insult Ron!'

'He was a bloody beggar in the first place! If he wasn't there, then we would've been friends!

'That's right, just blame it on him! I would've found about the real pathetic self you were soon enough anyways!'

Malfoy scowled. 'Right. There's that word pathetic again. Got not much in your vocabulary, huh? Probably know as many words as the Galleons in the Weasel bank account; none.' He retorted viciously.

'STOP INSULTING RON!' Harry's eyes grew steely. 'WILL. YOU. STOP. INSULTING. MY. FRIENDS. IT'S YOUR BLOODY FAULT YOU'RE SUCH A SELFISH PERSON! Father never taught you much, did he? Be a good Death Eater and the world will be alright.'

Malfoy drew back immediately, a fierce expression of anger overtaking his features but then to be schooled into a coolly indifferent mask. 'Right.'

Harry shook his head violently. 'Look, Malfoy, I'm-'

'I DON'T NEED YOUR APOLOGY, POTTER! I DON'T NEED YOUR PITY! IT'S YOUR FAULT MOTHER'S ON HOUSE ARREST AND I CAN'T DO A DAMNED THING!'

He inhaled deeply, shaking from either anger or frustration and then turned on his heel and fled. Harry reached out to grab his shoulder but Malfoy shook it off instantly as if it were poison.

'GO AWAY!' He shrieked, his voice cracking and platinum hair flying about.

Knowing that the situation was beyond control, Harry could only watch him run down the corridor and out of sight with mournful eyes. If only he could take his vitriol back.

Some things never changed.

But his feelings did.

_'So the situation could be salvaged?__' _He asked himself.

Perhaps.

Or perhaps not.

**Cut! And that****'****s the first chapter. Rate and review, please! Constructive criticism is very much appreciated. **

**~ Clarity Ann Dale**


	2. Chapter 2

Words of the Heart

Chapter 2 - Hiding

**Hello again! There isn****'****t much to say this time. Happy Reading!**

**Disclaimer: Once again, I say that I do not own the Harry Potter crew. It****'****s sad that I don****'****t even own them in my dreams. But oh well. Read on!**

'It isn't healthy, Dray.'

'Stop the mothering act, Pansy. I have a mother for that.' he answered irritably.

She only shrugged. 'Well, she's not here so I'll have to do. Get out.'

'No.'

'You've been cooped up in here for ages, except for going to classes and all that stuff.'

'So? What else would you do?'

'Go to Hogsmeade, Quidditch, anything! You've missed a Hogsmeade weekend already!'

'I don't want to go to Hogsmeade. Why would you want to go there? All there is is a bunch of Hufflepuffs and Gryffindorks drunk on Butterbeer.'

'That's not what you used to say.'

'Well, people change.' he huffed.

'Totally. Now, tell me. What did Potter do that made you so wound up?'

Draco gritted his teeth. 'He was being a git.'

Pansy smiled sardonically. 'Isn't he always, dear? What's so different this time?'

'Too much. Just leave me alone, Pans.'

There was a smile too, this time. But it was more of a sad one in nature. 'Alright Dray. I'll get you when it's dinner.'

Draco nodded. 'Thanks.'

She slipped out and closed the door behind her, leaving Draco on his own, books scattered all over the bed.

He picked up a heavy tome of _'__Arithmancy and Magical Numbers__' _and began to work on his homework, doing his best to ignore the incessant wave of questions in his brain. After re-reading a paragraph almost five times without noticing, Draco slammed the book shut. This was useless.

All his stubborn brain would do was to revert back to the screaming match that he and Potter had gotten into the previous day.

Potter's snide remark about his father, his expression one that did not suit perfect Potter, the Great Benevolent Being.

So he did hate him that much, did he?

_Well, he hated him that much as well, _Draco told himself with conviction.

'Right,' he could he hear the sarcasm in the little voice in his head, 'And yet you were so hurt when he rejected your hand, and still are to this day.'

'Shut up.'

'What Dray? It's dinner.' Pansy said, peeking her head in.

'Nothing, Pans.'

'Mhm…' he could hear the smile in her voice, 'If I hadn't known that you were always like this, I would've sent you to Saint Mungo's for talking to yourself.'

Draco cracked a weak smile, knowing that Pansy hated seeing him like that. 'Alright, alright,' he said softly, 'I'm coming.'

He clambered off the bed, limbs stiff, smile painted more like a grimace onto his face. Pansy led him to the hall like a child, arm in arm, but he knew she was doing her best to support him. But if only she could support more than just his weight.

He hadn't been there in weeks. Draco had no idea what he had been doing; trying to hide from that rueful smile of Potter, or trying to convince himself that this was just a little depressing phase that would slip away with the air.

He didn't know anymore.

The glow of the flaming sconces blinded him, and he ducked his head, looking at the floor as Pansy guided him around. He sighed. At this rate, he was never going to earn the Slytherins' trust and respect again. But he had been so shaken that everything just went out of control. Imagine what his father would say.

Draco winced at the thought of his father, sitting alone in a tiny cell, hair dull and lanky and face ashen grey. He couldn't just bring himself to say he deserved it; it was his father after all.

'Dray.'

He looked up into the concerned face of Pansy. 'What's wrong? Eat.' She waved her fork at his untouched plate.

'I'm not hungry.'

She scoffed. 'That's what everyone says.' She prodded his cold dinner again. 'Eat.'

Reluctantly, he picked up a silver spoon and scooped up a spoonful of egg. He sighed. Even getting the spoon to his mouth seemed like a distant goal, like the countless stars on the ceiling of the hall.

Naturally, his eyes wandered and came to rest on the Golden Trio, not looking the usual epitome of optimism. An equally miserable Potter sat between Bushy and Weasel, poking his food into slush and totally out of it. Draco was sure he didn't look much better.

Seeming to feel the intense power of his scrutiny, Potter looked up and gave a half-hearted glare in his direction, before turning away. It only made Draco feel worse. Beyond caring, he stood and left without a second thought, robes flapping around his ankles as he strode through the dark corridors.

'Draco!'

He heard the faint call of Pansy, who was obviously trying to catch up with him, without much luck. He took a sharp turn and ended up in _that _room.

The Room of Hidden Things.

Draco felt himself tense at the overload of terrible memories in here. He thought this room had been burnt up, but it hadn't. It was still here. He felt the build up of sheer terror inside him as he backed away, to hit solid wood. His brain went into overdrive and he panicked, breathing becoming quick and gasping, heartbeat running faster and faster.

'Draco!' The cry was much closer, right in front of him, in fact. He opened his eyes slowly and took a deep, deep breath. 'It's alright, I'm so sorry, it's alright, Dray.'

She hugged him close. 'Let's go,' she said shakily, extending an arm to him.

He took the proffered hand and walked back to Slytherin Common together.

That night was a horrible one, filled with dreams of fire and deformed creatures, and worst of all, the orbs of lifeless green.

**Chapter 2 is done! Rate and review please. Constructive criticism is very much appreciated. Thanks!**

**~ Clarity Ann Dale**


	3. Chapter 3

Words of the Heart

Chapter 3 - Miserable

**A filler chapter. I am most displeased with myself. **

**Snide little voice inside my head: A filler chapter already? You sure work fast.**

**Me: I****'****m **_**sorry**__**… **_**But you try to update when you****'****re busy studying for tests and when you type, all that comes out is Latin and French bits and pieces, as well as random maths symbols. Wonderful.**

**Snide little voice inside my head: Oh I have tried. I****'****m inside your head woman, can****'****t you see what you typed? My name is beautiful grand voice **_**inside your head**_**. Therefore I have done as much as you have.**

**Me: And obviously you can****'****t read either. I pretty sure I wrote **_**snide, puny **_**voice inside my head.**

**Snide little voice inside my head: No you didn****'****t. There****'****s no puny.**

**Me: Well now there is.**

**Snide **_**puny **_**voice inside my head: ****…**

**Ah! I have finished my argument with the ****'****snide little voice inside my head****' ****as well as officially labelled mentally unstable.**

**Have fun reading! **

**Disclaimer: I own nothing. Nothing. You hear me? Nothing.**

Harry thumped his head on the table miserably, making a few tiny, faint-hearted Hufflepuffs nearby leap in fright. Everything tasted bland on his tongue, his brain was fuzzy from too many cups of pumpkin juice to avoid eating and his arm and legs felt like lead.

'Are you alright, Harry?'

Harry almost swore. Did he look alright? 'No.' he answered bluntly.

Hermione's eyes widened. 'Erm… I'm sorry, Harry. You should go and get some rest in the Gryffindor tower.'

Nodding non-commitedly, Harry stood up somewhat unsteadily and headed off towards the door like he was drunk. When in reality, he had only lost any sense of balance. Squinting, he watched as the door became blurry and his vision swam a little.

_It__'__s just because of the pumpkin juice._

One step. Two steps. Three steps. Nearly there, four st-

The world turned off its lights.

_**~ Time Skip ~**_

'When do you think he'll wake up?'

Hermione.

'What's wrong with him?'

Ron.

'Ronald! Be more sensitive, won't you?'

'So when will he be awake?'

_Now._

Frowning slightly, he tried to sit up, but only succeeded in pushing a pillow onto the floor.

'Harry! We were so worried!' Hermione's head of bushy brown hair came into view.

'S'alright,' he mumbled. wheezing a bit.

'You certainly are _not, _Mister Potter,' Madam Pomfrey said disapprovingly, shaking her head.

'Wha not?' He sneezed.

'Because,' she began emphatically, 'You have a fever.'

'Tat's ohh-kay.'

'It is not. You are to stay in the Infirmary for a week.

Harry looked at Madam Pomfrey in dismay.

A whole week? On bed rest?

Harry flopped back into the mess of pillows and made a disgruntled noise.

Damn.

He shot back up again. 'Wai, how come I haf a muggle fever?'

'Well, your body reacted the muggle way to the cold and you would have caught something worse if it weren't for your magical core.'

He scowled.

Life was hard.

**Indeed. And there you go. If you think that this is not so good a chapter, I sorely agree. But I do need some time to make the next chapter better and edit, as well as developing the plotline. Please do review and give me your thoughts, I really need it! Constructive criticism is great.**

**~ Clarity Ann Dale**


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